


Lay All Your Love On Me

by MYSTERYstew



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 2x10 AU, Blood and Injury, Family Feels, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Protective Siblings, Vomiting, concerned Hargreeves, some language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYSTERYstew/pseuds/MYSTERYstew
Summary: They’re dead.And as always, he’s the only one left cycling air through his lungs. The last survivor.Or, Five isn't healed after he rewinds time.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so people have already done this 2x10 AU (and very well I might add) but I wanted some whump so I started writing...

They’re dead.

Five watches it happen once more. Watches the Handler tear through his family like they're tissue paper. It’s never the same cause, Vanya, nuclear bombs, bullets…no it’s never the same cause but the effect never changes.

And as always, he’s the only one left cycling air through his lungs. The last survivor.

He’s so damn tired of being the last one. Of surviving his family.

He lays in a slowly growing pool of his own blood, breath puffing out painfully as the Handler points the barrel of her gun between his eyes. It’s cold from the localized storm and more likely the blood loss.

She’s dragging it out, satisfaction in the lines of her face as she watches him struggle to breath through the bullets lodged in him.

Shots ring out and Five flinches in expectation.

The Handler’s mouth drops open in surprise as bullets rip through her gut. Another burst of fire and she falls next to him, dead as his family.

It’s a Swede that steps in to take the Handler’s place.

He looks down with a face carved from stone, his eyes empty. At least it’s not the Handler’s smug face watching Five struggle on the brink of life and death. A fellow lone survivor paying witness to Five’s last pathetic moments on earth, offering to put him out of his misery with a shot to the head, infinitely cold as he is merciful.

But Five can’t take it.

Not yet.

A lifetime spent clawing and scraping his way to survive. Endless nights and hopeless days. Failure after failure, death in every molecule of his being, surrounding him and festering inside him. Forty-years wandering the wilderness searching for a way back to the promised land. He thinks his mind may have shattered out there, that maybe it burrowed between the graves of Four and Six. Here lies Five the original and who stands in his place but a corrupted version of that small, ambitious boy.

He sold himself to the Commission, mind, body, soul. He acted as the hands of revolution, he was the bullet heard around the world, a lynchpin in the timeline cleaning up and smothering branches before they could start. He shut himself down and did what was asked.

A poor excuse for a life, but all of it leading to one goal.

After all of that. After breaking himself and patching the cracks, can he really allow himself to lay there and die?

No.

Not yet.

_Seconds not decades_.

Five’s hands clench.

He reaches out and grabs the river of time, strangling it between his hands and forcing it to submit. No portals or anything big. Just run the clock back.

_Seconds not decades._

He gasps, body tingling and cold, hands awash in blue.

The Swede lowers his gun stepping backwards and the Handler takes his place, smiling down at Five maliciously. Five keeps his hold, urging more seconds to recede.

The Handler disappears.

Five gets up, forcing his legs underneath him and pushing. It hurts, sharp pain shooting in his gut and pulling at the skin on his back. He feels when the bullets lodged inside tear back out. He clenches his teeth against the blinding heat of it, pushing himself to keep going, fighting against the flow of time.

Around him his siblings rise from the ground, blood splatters sucked back to their bodies as bullets fly out.

And then it’s easier and the river flows with him.

Five runs, pushes backward until he can go no longer, and he loosens his grip, popping out of the flow and right next to the barn door.

He shudders, gasping, hands flying to his stomach and finding it wet.

There’s really no time to dwell on how fucked he is.

The Handler enters the barn, ready to shoot his family again and Five shoves off the wall, taking her by surprise and wrestling the gun from her hands.

Had she known he was there he probably would’ve never gotten the weapon away from her. Not with how weak he is.

Her eyes meet his, surprise and anger and then surprise again as she takes in his state. He can feel it, the blood sliding down to his legs and making its way to his socks.

“Is what Five said true?” Lila demands, voice wet and angry and lost.

_She shot you_ , Five wants to say. _Murdered you without a second thought._

He hasn’t the wherewithal. Not with all his focus on the threat before him and remaining standing. _Just a little longer_.

The Handler drags her eyes away to look at her daughter, mouth beginning to tilt up, looking for an angle to spin in her favor. “Well—” she starts and gets cut off as the Swede shoots her dead.

Five can hear the surprised gasps of his siblings, the soft cry from Lila. He doesn’t look at them, simply shifts the slightest bit to get the man in his sights.

That stony face and empty eyes from seconds ago meet his once more. Lone survivor and dead man. The Swede looks at him assessingly, sees the blood soaking Five’s uniform and watches it roll down pale knees as gravity pulls it to the ground.

It’s getting harder and harder to stay upright, let alone hold the gun steady at Five’s hip.

There’s a commotion behind him, Luther and Diego yell and then there’s a loud thump on the ground. Someone activates a briefcase.

It’s a relief that the Swede hadn’t moved to attack, especially after whatever that was. He looks at Five and then drifts his eyes to the rest of the rag tag group holed up in the barn.

Five takes a chance. “Enough,” he says, letting the gun in his hands slip.

The Swede looks him over once more and Five wonders if he’d just doomed his family again when the Swede drops his gun as well. “Enough,” he agrees in Swedish.

The man stares at Five, cold eyes understanding. He nods a final farewell and walks away without another glance.

Behind him the others murmur as the tension breaks.

“Who the hell was that guy?” Klaus asks.

A gasp, “Harlan!”

Someone runs and others stand in confusion before there’s shuffling and steps following that voice. He should go too, there’s…still something to be done. He shifts to do just that and staggers as the floor shifts beneath him, making the barn jump sickeningly. He widens his stance and locks his knees, waiting for the motion to stop. It doesn’t.

Five slides gracelessly to his knees, unable to keep himself standing from the onslaught. The barn slides with him, shifting itself to the left so suddenly that Five has to shoot a hand out to brace himself on the floor. Pressure in his chest shifts higher, lodging in his throat and choking him. His jaw locks involuntarily and air struggles to get past the blockage, pushing against the top of his mouth.

Five gags on the sensation and that’s all that’s needed to make him heave the blockage. His whole body contracts with the action, making his vision white out with heat so hot it circles back to being cold.

He gasps when it’s over, body shaking with a cold sweat. Or maybe it’s the room that’s shaking? He opens his eyes to see his braced hand vibrating. He’s the one shaking then and the room is rocking gently as if to comfort him and only succeeds in making him uneasy.

Fuck he’s tired.

Five drops his chin to rest it against his chest, eyes following the line of his body.

_Oh_.

He blinks down at the front of his uniform soaked dark red.

How interesting.

“I’m not going to make it…” he confesses to the rocking room.

He feels kind of sad about that.

“F—e! Fi—! —ok a— —e!” Someone calls from far away.

Five blinks again, dragging his head up. It takes a lot of effort, his muscles objecting to moving at all. He turns his head to find who…

Ah. Diego.

His brother’s brow is furrowed in panic, hands reaching towards Five.

Five doesn’t have time or energy to clear up whatever is making his brother look like that. His vision is going greyscale.

He can rest now, right?

He’s so tired and his family is alive.

When was the last time he slept?

Now. Now is a good time to sleep.

Five falls.

***

Diego sighs as Luther finally crawls off his chest. His brother thinks he’s crazy for declaring his love for Lila, especially after the everything that’s happened, and maybe Diego is, but he thinks he can live with that.

He connected with Lila. She is crazy and fun and pushes all his boundaries. He enjoyed being around her in spite of everything and not just romantically. Their relationship is a mess at this point, Diego’s not denying that, but he thinks they could still be something to each other. The biggest question is what? Family? Lovers? Friends?

They’ll figure it out.

Diego sits up and catches sight of beads mixed in with the hay next to him. He grabs them carefully, recognizing the shoddy work of his own hands, messy but sturdy. Lila kept it then.

“Who the hell was that guy?” Klaus asks them in exasperation.

He receives no answer as Sissy’s voice rises from the lower level calling for Vanya.

“Harlan!” Vanya gasps, remembering the reason they were on the farm in the first place. Diego can’t fault her for her distraction, it’s been a wild afternoon. She runs to the stairs and disappears, leaving the rest of them to kick into gear slowly.

Luther and Allison get it first, and then Klaus is moving to follow the rest, the three of them running to the stairs. Diego hurries after them and pauses. One sibling is missing from their rush and there’s no sound of movement behind him. Diego looks back to see what the hell Five is doing just in time to see him fall to his knees hard, hand darting out to catch himself.

“Five?” Diego calls, pit forming in his stomach.

“Diego, what’s wrong?” Allison asks from behind him.

Diego doesn’t answer her, eyes widening as Five makes some choking noises before retching onto the floor. Five’s not okay, that much is obvious.

Diego moves back towards him, trying to swallow down the dread that’s nesting in his stomach. He can’t see Five’s face the way he’s turned and hunched over, he can just see the way his head droops and his body shakes even from this distance.

There’s a raspy whisper reaches Diego’s ears, sending alarms blaring in his head. “I’m not going to make it…”

“Five!” Diego yells picking up his pace and dropping down next to his smaller brother. “Five! Look at me!”

It takes a moment, like Five is still processing the words, but he manages to turn his face towards Diego.

There’s blood on his lips. He looks at Diego in confusion before his face clears in recognition. His whole countenance is concerningly lethargic, a glance down and Diego understands horrifyingly fast. There’s blood soaking through Five’s layers of clothes and the puddle of vomit on the floor has dark red mixed in it.

Diego is reaching for Five just as he goes limp, catching him before he can slide the rest of the way to the floor.

“G-guys!” he calls weakly, panic making his voice thin.

Shakily he presses his fingers to Five’s neck, searching for a pulse. He can’t fucking find it, whether that’s because there is nothing to find or Diego is shaking too badly is unclear. Instead he moves his hand to Five’s nose and waits.

He feels it. A weak expulsion of air against his bare skin.

***

Allison watches Five go worryingly limp, falling into Diego’s arms. She thinks the worst as she runs to them, dropping to her knees on the other side of Diego.

She can barely think to voice her thoughts but she has to know... “Is he—”

“He’s breathing,” Diego answers shakily. He shifts Five around, pulling him to lay stretched on the floor.

“Oh God…” Allison whispers because she can see it now. Five’s uniform is soaked with blood and it’s just like when they were at Harold Jenkin’s house but so much worse. The shrapnel wound on his side then seems minimal to this. She can see tears in the fabric of his uniform where the blood lies heaviest. Three of them: one just below the ribs, one to the left of his navel, and the final one on his left side.

“He needs a hospital,” she says horrified. There’s so much blood.

Diego starts tugging at the academy blazer with desperate hands. “That’s not an option!” he snaps, getting Five’s arms out of the holes and working on pulling the vest up.

He’s right Allison realizes. They’re the most wanted people on earth right now and that’s not even accounting for the fact that Five won’t make it to a hospital. All he has is them.

While Diego works the vest up and off, Allison sets to ripping the buttoned shirt open underneath, uncaring about the already ruined shirt.

She clenches her teeth at what she sees. There’s blood of course and the flesh is torn where he’s been shot, but the skin beneath it all is mottled with bruises climbing all the way up to his chest. And right there on his side is a blood-soaked bandage.

Allison pulls the useless thing off and sees a line of familiar stitches.

How long has it been for him? To still have Mom’s sutures in his skin.

“Allison,” Diego says. Allison looks away from the older wound. Diego’s eyes are hard, knowing what she’s thinking because he was there last time. “We have to slow the bleeding.”

She nods, snapping herself back to the reality of the situation. She quickly pulls the cape from her shoulders, feeling the bite of the chilled air on her bare arms, and presses down on Five’s stomach hard, hands covering the two shots that hit him center-mass.

A choked gurgling rises from Five’s throat.

Allison doesn’t release the pressure at the sound, knowing that it’s the cost of saving his life. She looks up and catches his eyes blinking open a sliver, the blue-green of his irises just visible below the lids. Diego catches it too, leaning close to their brother’s face and grabbing his cheeks.

“Hey Five, I need you to stay awake,” he says urgently.

A shiver runs though through the body beneath Allison’s hands and Five’s face scrunches up in displeasure, eyes drifting towards the ceiling.

Diego taps lightly at his cheek. “Focus on me.”

Five scoffs lightly, face twisting and smoothing out. He does look at Diego though and then blinks dazed. “St’p mo’vn,” he mutters disjointedly.

Allison licks her lips nervously. Diego looks at her and she sees the same fear reflected there.

“I’m not moving, Five.”

“I think someone’s feeling dizzy,” Klaus says from above them, startling Diego and Allison. His voice is light, but his eyes are heavy, arms laden with blankets explaining where he went when Five collapsed. “You look cold, buddy,” he says softly, kneeling down and covering what he can of Five’s extremities. “We’ve gotta keep you warm for the shock.”

A shiver runs through Five as though his body is recognizing Klaus’s words.

“S’not b’d,” Five slurs, eyelids dropping lower. Diego’s fingers tap his cheeks again, worried that he’s passing out. Five’s eyes stay open and foggy. “N’mb.”

Allison swallows, pressing harder and making Five gasp. “Sorry,” she mutters. She feels both bad and good about the pain, one part of her hating to see it and the other glad that his eyes look clearer despite it.

Klaus laughs without humor and starts rubbing along Five’s legs with a blanket. “Yeah, I feel that, or I guess you don’t really feel it,” Klaus rambles.

Five doesn’t reply to him this time too busy making choking noises.

Klaus scrambles to Diego’s side, “Turn him, turn him!”

Allison struggles to keep her hands where they need to be as Klaus and Diego guide Five onto his side. He shudders violently, body expelling the contents of his stomach.

There’s nothing but blood and bile.

Five gags a few more times in a way that makes Allison’s own stomach clench before he gasps quietly, breaths going ragged and short.

“That probably feels better,” Klaus says with false cheer, knowing damn well how bad things are getting. He leans over Five, using a jacket sleeve to wipe around his mouth. Five doesn’t acknowledge him, eyes shut and involuntary tears clinging to his eyelashes. His hair is stuck to his forehead and damp with sweat, skin far too pale.

Diego rubs a hand along his back just like Grace used to when they were little. “Where the hell is Luther?” he growls.

Allison shakes her head. She hasn’t dared to look away from Five since he first collapsed and she’s not going to now. She…she doesn’t want to miss anything…if it does happen.

God, does Vanya know or is she still downstairs with Harlan?

Crunching gravel and heavy steps hitting the wood floor announce Luther’s reappearance. “I’ve got medical supplies,” he says hurriedly, dropping a large industrial looking box next to them all and flinging it open quickly.

“We use it for the animals,” a southern accented voice says from above them. Allison glances up and sees the blonde woman, Sissy, standing there with wide eyes.

“There any tubes in there,” Klaus is asking Luther.

“Vanya, she needs to know,” Allison tells the woman.

Thankfully she blinks herself out of the shocking scene, nodding. “I’ll handle it,” she says and disappears down the stairs.

“Thank God for farmers, huh?” Klaus comments, fiddling with tubing in his hands. “Who’s ready to be a blood bag?”

“One of you,” Luther says begrudgingly.

“I’ll do it,” Diego offers, once more ready to lend his blood for a sibling.

“Close your eyes and think of your hot, crazy ex-girlfriend slash sister.”

“Klaus,” Diego growls in anger, but closes his eyes anyway.

Klaus sticks him with the needle quickly and the tube fills with red. Diego’s face goes a few shades paler, but he keeps his head. Klaus waits for the tube to fill all the way, a few drops leaking out the other end before he grabs Five’s arm to do the same.

“Here,” Luther says holding out some bandages towards Allison.

Her cape is saturated with Five’s blood, leaking through to stain her hands. “We’ll do a switch on three.”

Luther nods.

“One two, three…” Allison lifts the cape quickly and Luther moves to replace it.

“His back. There’s an entry wound on his back,” Diego hisses suddenly.

“What?!” Allison leans over Five to see that there is in fact a fourth hole on his back near the side, smaller than the third one on his front now that she’s looking. They missed it and now he’s been bleeding from it freely for minutes.

She covers it with another bandage, hoping that their mistake isn’t Five’s last.

“What happened?” Vanya asks, running to them, her voice wavering.

Luther meets her eyes, “Five’s, uh—”

“Shot. Not looking good,” Diego interrupts, voice strained.

“Diego!” Allison snaps.

“Shit,” Vanya whispers, stumbling to their sides. She slides in between Diego and Luther, right by Five’s head her hands hovering over him before she settles one in his hair.

“Five?” she asks, tilting her head to look at his face.

Allison can see it from her spot, at some point he’d slipped back into unconsciousness, face slack.

Luther and her keep the pressure on the shots. Diego flexes his hand, pushing blood from his own veins to Five’s. Klaus alternates from checking him to checking Five. Vanya runs her fingers gently through Five’s hair.

Five breaths shallowly between them, body wracked with chills.

Klaus sheds his long coat and drapes it over him, engulfing his small body in warmth.

“What do we do?” Vanya asks them quietly. “Are we just w—waiting for him to…to go?”

Allison sucks in a breath, the question striking her deeply.

Vanya stares down at their brother, “Is this what it was like with Ben? The…the first time?”

“No,” Allison answers for the rest of them.

Ben had been…loud.

The only sound Five is making are rapid little breaths.

“Five isn’t going to die,” Diego suddenly speaks up, voice strong. He looks at each of them in challenge and then fixes their brother with a hard look, if Five were awake he’d probably be squaring up with Diego. “He’s a stubborn bastard and we’re not going to let him go.”

And Five, ever the contrarian, stops breathing.

***

Vanya is the one who moves first, shoving against Luther and starting to perform chest compressions on their smallest brother.

None of them breathe, imitating Five’s still form. Fear courses through all of them, each sibling wondering if this would be it. Seventeen years without him and then two frantic weeks with the brother they lost. Now that may be all they get.

It’s an eternity of suspended dread.

“Breathe, Five,” Vanya begs.

He gasps, a small little thing.

They follow suit.

***

“That was too close,” Luther says.

Klaus laughs, voice high. “Yeah, no shit.”

“We need a plan.”

Luther looks at Five like he expects him to stop breathing again.

Allison is waiting for it to happen as well.

Even if he is stable right now (he’s not stable, he’s clinging to life by his fingertips), his breathing is shallow and the time between breaths is full of uncertainty.

“We can’t go to a hospital, not when we’re the most wanted people in the world and everyone thinks Five is our ‘kidnappee’,” Diego says.

“It’s too far away,” Vanya adds.

They’re between a rock and a hard place.

Five needs more than their shoddy first aid skills, a thought that stresses Allison to no end. Where can they go? Not the hospital. Not to anywhere in Dallas. They need to leave the sixties all together, but how do they do it without their resident time traveler? The field behind Sissy’s house is littered with bodies and briefcases so should they try to find one that survived Vanya and Lila’s shockwaves. How do they even operate?

Five was the one steering this boat and now he’s out of commission.

Allison looks at his face. It’s so pale from the blood loss, and so damn young. He looks like a real kid when he’s still and quiet and… _vulnerable_. Klaus’s coat covers his whole body. It catches Allison off guard to see the boy from her childhood.

She reaches without thought to run her fingers through his damp hair, brushes it across his forehead. He’s got a huge knot on his forehead that wasn’t there when they arrived at the farm. He has a lot of things that weren’t there before…at least she thinks. She hasn’t paid him much attention since he arrived in the time period, so focused on Ray and their marriage.

She remembers drinking with Klaus, lamenting and raging over Ray’s distrust. And then just like that Five was there, looking the same as always and toting the apocalypse line. Klaus had laughed at him, inebriated brain finding something hilarious about Five’s unchanged state, right down to the socks. Five ignored him, urging them up briskly and with no room for argument. “I need the Umbrella Academy, so sober up,” he’d commanded imperiously. Nothing had changed.

Allison’s eyes drift to his abdomen covered in fresh bandages. There’d been an old one from apocalypse week, one that took up most of her memories of Five that first week. “Shrapnel,” he’d muttered as Diego and her carried him home from Harold Jenkins. The next time she saw him was in the ruins of their home, eyes manic as he proclaimed the apocalypse was still on. Then it was chaos as they scrambled to stop Vanya.

She…really missed a lot in regards to Five. She’s surprised to see him in such a state, bloody and bruised all over his torso, with one beginning to darken his throat.

She feels like shit honestly, to see him like this. When did it happen? Was he alone? Who was watching Five’s back, if anyone actually was?

When the hell did he get shot?

“Guys,” Vanya says, head turned towards the barn door with wide eyes. “Someone is here.”

Seconds later they hear it too. Gravel crunching under shoes.

They scramble into position. Luther steps between Five and the open door, ready to shield him. Diego is reaching for the nearest sharp object, left arm still attached to Five, it’s the only time he’s gotten close to a needle without feeling nauseous. Vanya moves next to Luther, skin going pale with power. Klaus dives for Five’s discarded gun, holding it in sure hands.

Each of them are ready for an assault.

What happens instead is two figures step around the corner and Diego exclaims, “Herb?!”

Allison recognizes the small man who showed up in her living room with an offer to clean her carpet and get rid of the Swede’s body. The woman next to him is a mystery though.

They both smile a little awkwardly, more than likely unsure what to do with the room of hostile Hargreeves.

“Wow. It’s the entire Umbrella Academy set,” Herb says delighted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quietly ups the chapter count* We'll see how long that lasts.

It’s cold.

He knew he hadn’t prepared well enough for this winter, his food reserves vanished as the snow swirled in a frenzy outside his shelter. He was desperate.

Desperation always pushed Five to places he shouldn’t go.

Somewhere along the way he’d lost the battle with his body and collapsed.

_Open your eyes._

He can’t lift the lids, can’t look around to see what’s happening. He can feel the cold press of the rough ground against him, leeching his warmth away like a parasite. The air bites at him harshly and each breath draws it in like welcoming a ravenous beast into his chest to do as it pleases. It hurts— _it fucking hurts_ —

He pauses, just a short one to ease the pain.

All it does is burn, fire in his lungs licking up up up—

He coughs, forces the smoke out and breaths in the ice.

There’s something he has to do. He’s sure of it.

His body releases a shiver, the contracting of his muscles blazing through the frost encasing him. Guess he wasn’t done with those after all.

Food.

That’s what he was doing. His stomach is a blackhole, unfeeling and begging to be filled. That’s right he’s starving to death in a blizzard. Now he remembers, Delores urged him to find something to eat soon, before his body gave out. It looks like her warning came too late, Five thinks with an amused huff. Finally he can tell her she was wrong.

Another shiver creeps down his spine like skittering fingers dragging their claws against him. He flinches away from the sensation, back arching and suddenly the world is white chasing away the black cloak across his vision. The heat of it shoots through his blood, blazing through the ice too fast. He feels sick with the way it floods him, burrowing in his stomach like a cockroach in a corpse.

He has nothing left in him, he knows that.

Yet his body still finds a way to weakly expel the dregs. He chokes on it, fingers twitching with the need to clear his airway. There’s gentle pressure on his face, turning him enough that he can let gravity dribble the disgusting amalgam out of his throat.

_You’re okay Five_.

He feels spent, unable to so much as open his eyes.

“Delores,” he calls, the syllables clashing in his mouth. She must hear him though, that gentle and warm pressure running to the back of his neck in a reassuring gesture.

There…there was something he needed to do.

There’s a reason he is laying on the ground.

It was important. The most important thing.

Sluggish thoughts provide him with no answer, just the knowledge that there was _something_ that he needed to do.

But, maybe he already did it?

That would be a relief. Maybe he can rest then.

***

The day has been one bad thing after another.

But maybe things are turning around, Diego thinks cautiously lowering the needle in his hand.

“Diego, you know these people?” Luther asks suspiciously, standing guard over Five.

“Yeah, they’re good people,” Diego says. “They helped us stop the apocalypse.”

Herb and Dot relax a little at his words, the small man stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “I never thought I’d meet the entire Hargeeves family,” he says with awe. Luther glances back confused even as he accepts the man’s hand. Herb turns to Vanya next, whose skin has returned to normal, she takes his hand hesitantly.

This whole casual little meeting is unexpected and a sharp contrast to what the past minutes have been like. Diego has his brother’s blood soaking his pants and covering his hands. There’s a tube in his arm replenishing the blood Five has lost, and here’s Herb excited to meet the rest of the family. “Herb, not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here?” Diego asks.

The two worker’s faces grow more serious and business-like. “Well, seeing as upper management has been…eradicated—” Herb shoots a glance to the Handler’s body. “ –and the Commission is undergoing some changes, as acting interim director I figured that I owed you all.”

“No shit, you’re in charge?”

Herb shrugs self-consciously while Dot pats his shoulder.

“What do you mean owe us?” Vanya asks from the side.

“Without you I wouldn’t be in this new position, we’d all still be working under the old regime,” Herb explains.

“We were monitoring the confrontation,” Dot says, speaking up for the first time. “It had us all on the edge of our seats.”

“We know that Mr. Five is…incapacitated,” Herb says next, wringing his hands. Incapacitated is a nice word for what Five is, barely hanging on. “Given everything that’s happened, and his part in things, we’ve decided to offer our assistance.”

Luther’s eyebrows jump up. “Come again?”

“Medical assistance,” Herb reiterates.

“That’s…incredibly generous of you,” Vanya says slowly.

“But I think we need to think it over?” Luther hesitantly puts forth, looking at his siblings.

Diego clears his throat, “A Team Zero meeting.”

“Oh. Oh of course!” Herb says hurriedly. “We’ll wait. But uh…time is of the essence.” He casts a meaningful look at Five as if the siblings can’t hear the way he’s struggling for each breath.

“We have a medical team on standby,” Dot adds, pulling Herb back outside but still within view.

“We should take it,” Diego says quickly, before anyone else speaks.

“We don’t exactly have a lot of options,” Klaus agrees.

Vanya shakes her head, looking around her in confusion. “Aren’t these the same guys that were trying to kill us?”

“Herb’s good people. He was part of La‘Resistance.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Vanya groans.

Diego opens his mouth to explain only to be cut off by Luther’s serious look. “You trust them?”

“I think Herb’s a good guy,” Diego says yet again.

“Do you trust them with Five’s life?” Luther stresses.

That one is harder to answer. Does he think Herb is a good guy? Yes. Does he trust the Commission? No.

“Open your eyes,” Allison says.

Diego’s eyes are open he wants to say, he’s not blind to the situation. He stops short, realizing she wasn’t talking to him at all, leaned over Five and watching his face intently. Five’s chest rises and falls. Diego waits for it to continue the rapid rhythm it’s adopted for the past few minutes. And keeps waiting.

“He’s not breathing—” Diego starts, shifting to his knees, feeling his nerves ignite at the realization.

Five coughs suddenly, sucking in a harsh breath and shivering. And then he’s huffing out a breath, lips twitching the barest amount.

“You little shit,” Klaus gasps, clutching at his chest.

Another shiver racks their brother’s small body and he flinches, face twisting as agony must flare through him. His fingers twitch, arm shifting and pulling on the tube connecting Diego to him like he’s reaching for something and starts choking.

Allison responds immediately, coaxing him further onto his side, her fingers pressing his face to hang down and let him heave what he needs to with the help of gravity. Diego grimaces as more blood is puked. There either isn’t much left in Five’s stomach or he’s getting too weak to properly expel because there’s not a whole lot coming out at this point.

“You’re okay Five,” Allison says softly, fingers running gently along his forehead.

“D’lores,” Five slurs out, voice like gravel.

Allison’s face falls at his disorientation, to hear Five call out for a mannequin when they’re right there, even as her hand cups the back of Five’s neck.

Diego sucks in a breath, meeting each of his siblings’ eyes. “I think that if we don’t take this offer right now, Five won’t have a life to live.”

Luther is pale, eyes fixed on Five as he nods along. “I think you’re right.”

Diego looks to Vanya and Klaus, who nod back after a few seconds.

Allison keeps her eyes on Five. “Okay,” she agrees.

***

The medical team consists of four people, their faces covered by red gas masks and draped in white jumpsuits. Without the white they would look just like the Commission agent’s that attacked the family at the Icarus theatre and bowling alley. Klaus will give them points for standing out and practically screaming which division they work for. The head honcho even has a red cross on his shoulder that separates him from the uniformity of the other three.

There’s a moment’s pause, where Herb points them in Five’s direction and the medics all stand there staring for an uncomfortable moment. And then there’s a harsh bark to move from the man in charge that gets his subordinates to come close.

They force Allison to leave Five’s side by simply inserting themselves into the space she’s occupying and expecting her to move. She does, looking wary and nervous, not wandering far from them. It’s understandable, Klaus feels a little wary of these people as well. He met Herb for barely five minutes and only has Diego’s word to take as a vouch for the man’s integrity. That’s someone Diego knows, if barely, not these faceless medics swarming around his vulnerable and small brother.

Yes, Klaus agrees this is the only real option for them, that doesn’t mean he can’t have his doubts.

“What’re you doing?” Diego protests as the transfusion tube connecting him to Five is unceremoniously detached and he is forced to move in much the same way as Allison.

He receives no answer.

The subordinates are kneeling, cautiously lifting the reddening bandages that Allison and Luther had applied when the boss freezes.

“Is that from him?” the man under the mask asks Klaus, the closest of the siblings, pointing at the blood and bile on the floor.

“Yeah, he’s vomited three times now.”

The man clucks his tongue, turning to the other medics. “Where are the entry points?”

“Abdomen. One below the ribs, one left of the naval, and one clean through the left side,” the one of them answers.

The boss man drops down next to the others, who shift out of his way to watch, and runs a hand lightly over Five’s belly before pressing down hard.

Five jerks under the hand, a wounded gurgle escaping his mouth. Klaus clenches his teeth, forcing himself to stay where he is as the medic pushes against Five and forces small, pained noises from his brother’s throat. He wonders if Five will vomit again, if he’ll even be able to release anything, when the medic finally stops.

“Five,” Allison calls quietly, hand covering her mouth as she fights not to shove her way back to his side.

“What the hell are you doing?” Diego asks sharply, looking seconds away from stabbing the medics for hurting Five.

“Diagnosing,” the head medic, says succinctly.

Diego growls at the short answer, and Klaus grabs his arm to restrain him. As much as he’d like to see Diego lay the man under the mask out, they can’t.

Klaus smiles at the medic, lips curling unfriendly and cold. “And what do you diagnose so far?”

“That he needs surgery given that one or more of his organs have likely been perforated,” the medic snaps. Then he raises his voice, “ _Director_ , send word to Dr. Palmer, we’ll need a room prepped immediately.”

Herb jumps in his spot as far away as he can get while still being in hearing and viewing range. He looks to Dot who nods grimly and steps outside the barn.

“We’re transporting now,” the medic orders. And then jabs his index finger at Luther, “You. Get over here and lift him.”

Luther gapes at the man before kicking it into gear. His hands slide under Five easily and he gently picks him up to be set on the stretcher. Even as gentle as Luther is, Five still twitches at the light jostling but thankfully doesn’t get sick. A small consolation.

Herb clears his throat, drawing their attention. “The briefcases are built to carry a limited amount of people, but I figure we can fit seven to each. Two of you can go on the first and three on the second.”

That just leaves the who.

Klaus looks to his siblings and sees them doing the same, each of them wanting to go first but holding back for the others. Klaus can wait, he knows that at this point he’s not the most useful. Vanya is looking torn, hands twisting around themselves. She must be thinking about her farm frou. Herb only specified the Hargreeves in his count. Klaus can stay and wait with her while Five gets treated, maybe his nerves will stop jumping like they’re on a live wire. That leaves Allison, Diego, and Luther.

“Diego, you should go first,” he says decisively, surprising the rest of the family. They look at him questioningly. “You know the place best.” Not to mention he’s one of their best fighters.

Luther seems to understand as well, good ol’Number One training in strategy resurfacing. “Allison you should go too,” he says, and then falters, losing that self-assured demeanor and facing their smaller sister. “I mean, unless you want to go Vanya?”

But she shakes her head. “No it’s okay, Allison should go.”

Allison looks relieved that she can go without having to argue against them for the spot.

Two of the medics lift the stretcher between them. Allison and Diego join them as Herb hefts the briefcase at his feet and they grab his shoulders.

It strikes Klaus then, that if things go wrong this could be the last time he sees Five.

The thought pushes all the air from his lungs.

It’s not a nice final look at his brother. He’s pale as a corpse, lips stained with blood that Klaus wants to wipe away, to erase from his skin and their minds.

Is this what the others felt when Ben died?

Klaus remembers Ben on the ground, thrashing and screaming from the pain in such a way that Klaus had wanted to shrink back, something primal in him shying from his brother even as he grabbed at his ankle and Luther bent over Ben to stop the bleeding.

That had been his siblings’ last memory of Ben for years, etched into their brains.

But it was easy for Klaus to push those memories aside and forget their affect when Ben was next to him and perfectly whole, talking shit and asking to see the ocean.

Looking at Five, balanced between life and death, Klaus can remember what it was like the first time he lost a brother right in front of him.

He wants to reach out.

His hands curl around his arms instead.

There’s a flash as Herb activates the briefcase and the group disappears.

Luther catches his eye, frowning. “You good?” he asks.

Klaus blinks. Luther looks shaken, his hands bloodied with Five’s blood and he’s asking if Klaus is good when none of them really are. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The afternoon has been high strung to say the least and seeing Five laying on the barn floor shaking and in pain and bloodied had been like a blast from the past. Klaus had seen many people in a similar state during his time in Vietnam. Hell, he’d seen guys he knew blown to pieces and screaming still when it didn’t seem physically possible.

Those that lived long enough for help to arrive were taken to green canvas tents tucked into the jungles of Vietnam. He’d watched squad-mates taken inside and worked on with inadequate supplies and undertrained staff. Some of them lived despite the odds, they got sent home and said, _“Thank God”_ because they could leave the jungles and the pointless violence behind (you never really escape it though, not even if you can time travel).

This day it had been his family filling those roles, acting as the frantic medics trying to save their brother’s life. He just hopes that Five is one of the ones that makes it.

Klaus spent three years trapped in the sixties with only Ben for company, no hide or hair of the others. And then Five was back, tracking each of them down like it’s his real power and bringing with him chaos and news of the Apocalypse. Again. Klaus was starting to wonder if the Apocalypse was just as obsessed with Five as Five was with it. It’s weird that he’s always dropping into the end of times.

Thinking back on it, maybe Five had a right to his obsession. They did nearly destroy the world twice after all and he was the only witness to both. That has to screw with you.

That’s a can of worms for later.

The point is three years of no Five. Before that it was seventeen. To lose him now would be too soon. How fucking tragic if they lose two brothers in two days. How unfair that it would be the two they already lost only to get back again, but then, oh, just kidding they’re both gone again. Klaus can’t take more of that shit.

But Five’s not dead, so Klaus can stop raging against the universe for now.

They’re not going to lose him again.

“Sissy,” Vanya says quietly. Klaus follows her gaze and sees the blonde woman hovering by the stairs. The woman is watching them and the new arrivals warily. The poor woman has really been through the ringer today. Klaus can sympathize with that, he’s feeling a little wrung out himself.

Vanya goes to her, clasping their hands and pressing their foreheads together, speaking quietly. Klaus can’t hear what’s being said but he can guess from the pleading look on Vanya’s face, the way she looks urgent and so desperately hopeful.

His own hand drifts to the dog tags around his neck.

Dot walks into the barn again, a briefcase in hand, and Klaus redirects his attention to the Commission agents with them. The woman nods to the head medic and his only subordinate who’d stayed behind. “We’re taking the body as well so get it ready for the trip.”

“What about the field of bodies? Should we contact another team and look for survivors?” the head medic asks, making his way towards where the Handler’s body is crumpled.

Dot gives a plastic smile, “The clean up crew will be handling that.”

Luther looks at the woman sharply, face twisting uncomfortably. It sounds like there will be no survivors. Klaus grabs Luther’s arm, shaking his head. Whatever is going on with the Commission is way above them and Klaus isn’t overly eager to stand up for the guys who tried to exterminate his family, who possibly got one of them anyway.

The medics begin by rolling the Handler over, her face stuck in a look of surprise. “She’s dead,” they declare after checking her pulse.

Dot catches Luther and Klaus’s duel looks of confusion, smiling more genuinely at them. “She’s very hard to kill you know, so we wanted to be sure. She recently survived a bullet to the head from our agent Hazel and a grenade from Mr. Five.”

“How’s that possible?” Luther asks, even he would more than likely succumb to a bullet in the head.

“Sheer luck and a great deal of spite,” Dot answers him. “This time it seems to have stuck though.”

“That Swede was pretty thorough,” Luther says absently.

“Oh, he was Swedish then?” Klaus snorts. It’s the only piece of information the others have bothered to tell him about the mystery shooter. Granted they were…distracted soon after.

“He was part of a three man team with his brothers,” Dot explains kindly. “From what our investigators have uncovered it looks like the Handler got involved at some point and the youngest brother died shortly after, which drove the remaining two to retaliate against your family.”

“Elliott,” Luther groans, sad realization on his face. “They used him to send a message but she’s the one who orchestrated everything.”

“Well, the Handler was good at her job. She had a way of twisting events to suit her rather expertly. Perhaps that’s why Mr. Five earned so much of her ire.”

“What do you mean by that?” Klaus asks curiously. He hasn’t heard much about Five’s time as a Commission agent beyond the bare details.

“She recruited him didn’t she?” Luther says.

Dot looks as surprised as Klaus is. “That’s correct. They had history and it was no secret among the analysts that she favored him above her other agents.” She leans a little closer like she’s sharing some particularly juicy gossip, “She gave him the Hindenburg on his first day in management. Granted she wanted to keep him distracted, but I think she still took pride in his handling of the case. It caused a bit of jealousy in a few of us.”

Luther mouths ‘Hindenburg’ looking far too absorbed with the name so Klaus carries on with the conversation. It’s a little weird to hear about Five’s relationship with his boss when the woman’s body is just a few feet away, but Klaus has been in weirder situations. “Well, my brother has a way of getting under people’s skin. You should’ve seen him as an actual preteen.”

Dot’s shoulders tense a little, jumping up in a shrug. “Kids that age love pushing boundaries, it’s to be expected really, and sometimes they overstep without meaning to,” she trails off. Klaus gets the feeling they’re having two conversations from her suddenly pensive look. And then she seems to shake it off, smiling once more. “He was only in management for a day and already he was excelling, plus he looked like a child which was quite a shock to a lot of us and made for some disgruntled feelings. He was the Handler’s though so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that he would be just as good with a pen as with a ’sword’. He really was her ‘tour de force’.”

Klaus frowns a little. The more he hears Dot describe the Handler and Five, the more uneasy he feels. Even if it’s Dot speaking, she manages to make it sound possessive, like Five was a valuable object to the Handler.

Klaus glances at Luther, somewhat relieved to see that he looks troubled by the information as well, his brow furrowing as he stares at the Handler’s body.

Dot looks at the woman as well, head tilting in examination. “She took it rather personally when he defected.”

That doesn’t surprise Klaus. She looks like the kind of woman to do so, and from what little Klaus had seen of her she seemed to enjoy their scrambling for their lives, only looking truly put off when she realized she was cornered.

Vanya slips quietly back to them, notably alone and her face crestfallen. Klaus wraps an arm around her immediately, knowing that whatever conversation she’d had with Sissy had not gone how she’d hoped. “She’s not coming,” he confirms softly.

“She can’t risk Harlan,” Vanya says solemnly.

She leans further into him and Klaus feels a burst of warmth flood him, to have her seeking the comfort he’s offering.

The medics finish with the Handler’s body and the rest of them gather around Dot, ready to leave.

Vanya clears her throat a little and addresses Dot. “Five’s odds are good right? I mean, the doctors at the Commission can…can save him?”

“The Commission employs the best of the best,” Dot reassures. “And if there’s anything I’ve learned in my time there, it’s that you don’t bet against Mr. Five unless you’re looking to lose.”

The woman’s words do their job, lifting everyone’s hopes.

The medics step into their circle and Klaus grabs onto Luther and Vanya tightly for the journey. He sees in the corner of his eye, Sissy waving forlornly joined now by the boy Harlan tucked into her side. Then there’s a flash and the feeling of cotton shoved up the brain and they’re gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now there's going to be more because I underestimated how much I'm going to put in this.  
> Anyway, I'll write more soon but I have a midterm this week and an assignment so I may be a little distracted. But here's a little something for everyone, though it's kind of transition-y compared to chapter one.

**Author's Note:**

> ~I hope you enjoyed my medical inaccuracies~  
> I did look some stuff up though and now I know things which is always fun but it's also gross and/or horrifying  
> I started this out with a lot more POV switches but as usual my favorites took up all the time


End file.
